The Bloody Dance
by alltogether.seperate
Summary: Soul Eater AU. meet Hush, the mysterious man from Spain and Sophia, the musical prodigy of the Alexander family of London. their lives are woven together by fate. follow their journey as they join the DWMA and learn what it means to be resonant partners, defeat Kishin souls, and uncover a new threat that could destroy their entire world. R&R Please!
1. The Maiden and the Spaniard

_**First Soul Eater story. Hope you like it. oh, and i don't own Soul Eater. like at all.**_

* * *

—_1— _

_The Maiden and the Spaniard_

As soon as she stepped on stage, a thunderous applause erupted from the crowd. Hundreds of people flocked from all corners of the world to come see the performance of a lifetime, and it was all cradled on the shoulders of one girl. She stepped into the spotlight and bowed gracefully, her long brown hair dangling above the violin she had in her hands. When the clapping ceased, she turned to the conductor and the full-on orchestra behind her, all of which were watching her in anticipation. She nodded indicating that she was ready to begin and turned back to face the onlookers raising the instrument to her chin, batting her blue eyes that still adjusted to the bright, warm ray of light shining down on her.

She could feel the edges of her lips curl.

She lived for moments like this.

The crowd fell silent as she let the bow rest on the strings and tilted it ever so slightly to draw in suspense. Then, she slowly shifted her weight and leaned into the first note, letting it ring out into the audience and throughout the entire theatre as the rest of the orchestral set followed suit.

Her fingers moved with a precision rarely seen in someone of such a young age. They paced back, forth, up, down the neck like a spider weaving a musical web making the notes almost visible to the naked eye. The slow tempo and augmented harmonies produced from the stringed instrument were breath-taking. The song was a familiar piece, but even to the trained ear, it was as if she was breathing new life into it, the way she slightly swayed her hips from side-to-side to keep time, the way she anticipated the next note and how she closed her eyes ever so often, adding emphasis to a crescendo in the measure. It was intoxicating to watch.

Yes, all eyes were on the musical prodigy, Sophia Alexander, the crowned jewel of the esteemed Alexander aristocrat family of London. She had been touring for two months now, and at the pinnacle of her travels, the last show of the year was to be played in her hometown amongst many familiar faces and other high-class members of society from all over the globe. Her mother and father sat off to the side, faces glowing, so proud of their little star, wiping a stray tear from their eyes. Words could not describe how elated they were of their little Sophie. Only seventeen-years-old. Time sure does fly, but she had accomplished so much in such little time. Ever since they could remember, they knew their little girl was destined for greatness, playing the piano and violin at five, the classical guitar and viola at six, the flute and cello at nine, every instrument she touched, she knew how to play, a gift only the most deserving were given. And oh how they thought she deserved it. Everywhere they went, they would exclaim how proud they were of their little girl.

And Sophia knew this.

Boy, did she ever…

But as she was up on the stage, gracing the audience with her rendition of the famous piece, her mind wondered. She had no need to concentrate on the song. It took one glance at the piece in a practice room a few weeks before the performance, and she had it memorized completely. And another two days of practice on the instrument itself and it was nothing but muscle memory. No, her mind wasn't on the music. It probably wasn't even in the confines of the theatre. It was far past the ceiling, into the sky, and up dancing along the surface of the moon. People told her time and time again that she gave life to her music, but in all honesty, there was no life in it at all. It was all a façade, a farce. She knew how to get people's attention. She knew how to technically play the song to where it would seem pretty, throw a few chromatic adlibs in an unsuspecting measure and they swore she had rewritten the entire damn composition.

To be completely honest, she was lonely up on that stage. She was tired of playing the game, pretending like she cared about being famous, being in the spotlight, being the second-best violinist, right next to that Wes Evans fellow. In fact, she had met him on many occasions and shared the stage with him, performing duets or simply taking turns shocking and wooing the crowd. As she watched on, she couldn't help but wonder; how he could act just…she didn't know to properly put it…so damn _cool _in front of these people? Was there any type of emotional conflict going on in his mind like hers? She would often wonder if it was merely a phase she was going through, some type of teenage adolescence, her throwing a fit or something insignificant like that.

No.

It was deeper than that.

Much deeper…

The way she felt seeped deep into her bones.

It was a prayer that she could only dream of it being answered, a song in her heart with one word and one note, playing loud and strong for someone, anyone to hear.

Deliverance.

The climax of the song was coming.

_Time to let them have it_…

Her fingers flew across the neck of the violin in a series of complicated enharmonic scales that she decided to throw in five minutes before the performance for added flare. And they loved it.

Oh how they loved. The second wave of applause was even louder than the first. It had begun before the song was even over. When the last note rung out, she stepped back and addressed the orchestra and conductor by motioning to them with her hand. Without a second thought, the entire ensemble stood to their feet and joined in with the eager crowd in thanking Ms. Sophia Alexander for gracing them with her music.

She smiled softly, rather embarrassed by how excited they were.

No matter how many times she played, she never got used to all of the faces praising her name. It was awkward. To her, she was nothing special; even so, she bowed respectfully and waved back. She even caught one of the many thorn-clipped roses that made their way onstage.

Maybe she was being selfish.

This wasn't entirely bad.

People appeared as if they liked her, her parents adored her, she was living a very comfy life, and she traveled the world. Most people would kill for something even remotely close to a life like that. There was no need to desire anything else, right? After all, she had been living this façade for seventeen years. Why complain now? She would just have to hunker down and accept it. No matter how long she played that one heart-string, no one was going to hear it.

As the applause began to die down, she suddenly felt a presence, eyes, watching her in the distance, not like the normal crazed fans, whistling and shouting in admiration. It felt different, warm, like they were calling out to her. Why was she feeling this all of a sudden? She found herself scanning the faces of the crowd, trying to pinpoint where the spectacle was coming from. Her eyes darted left, then right, seeing if anyone was out of place, but to no avail. The spotlight shut off above her, and she was rushed off the stage by a group of rather large men.

She sighed in frustration.

She didn't like her body guards, not in the least. They were pushy, bossy, and much too overprotective for her tastes, but they indeed had a job to do. In almost no time at all, they had made it down three flights of stairs and to the door of her changing room. She sighed again and went to turn the knob, but stopped short turning back at her caretakers.

"Please tell me you aren't going to stand here by the door while I change."

The three men, all of them wearing sunglasses, simply looked at one another and collectively stepped three paces backwards away from her.

Without another word, she stepped inside and locked the door. She made her way towards the violin case sitting on the dressing room counter and carefully placed her prize possession inside. Even though she didn't like playing most of the music she performed, she still loved the violin. Aside from the guitar, it was her favorite instrument.

Now the guitar, THAT was the instrument she enjoyed, not exactly fit for her line of work, but whenever she had time, she would go up to the confines of her room and pull out the dusty blue 1976 Stratocaster she had saved up to buy and plugged it into an amp and turned it up to the point where the windows would shake and rattle as she slid up and down the fret board.

She almost laughed out loud thinking about it.

"No time for daydreaming I suppose. Mum and dad will get worried if I take too long."

She walked over to her suitcase and pulled out the evening dress that her mother had bought her back in Paris. It was a droll shopping spree at best, highly unnecessary in her eyes, but of course, what does a teenage girl like herself know when it comes to the finer things in life, says her mother? She was far too young to know what's what and what wasn't.

But in reality, she didn't really care about anything of that sort. She was usually cooped up in her room writing a song, not gallivanting about, purchasing $700 dresses and purses. She had far too much music to write. It had become such an obsession, that her parents would sometimes have to force her out of her room to enjoy some company with other people.

As for the dress in her hands, she didn't really like the greyish color all that much; but nonetheless, it would make her mother happy if she wore it. She walked back over to the mirror and took a good long look at herself. Her freckled skin and cheeks shimmered underneath the lights, nervous sweat from the performance no doubt. As long as she didn't smell, it was fine. She leaned in closer and moved the bangs away from her cerulean eyes and batted them a few times to see if any mascara was running.

Nope, still fine…

Hold on.

Eyes.

Those eyes that she felt, where were they coming from? Or was it just the heat of the moment? No, she had never felt something like that before. It was as if the onlooker was up on stage with her. She was first going to blame it on the beaming flood light, pouring it's rays atop of her head, but it was far too distinct to be mistaken. And the weirdest thing about it was that the stare wasn't off putting or out of place. Oddly enough, it felt…compassionate, sympathetic even. Truly there must've been a reason for her feeling them. It was like she was being spoken to. And she could legitimately trust whoever it was.

_Trust_?

Wow, that was a bold thing to say.

_Listen to yourself Sophie, you sound foolish._

Even though she was in the public eye more often than she would like, she was not the most sociable person in the world. Many of the families and friends her parents associated with were very superficial, had no substance, and always, ALWAYS, talked about money. They found their identity in it.

And she didn't stand it, not in the least bit.

Even if she suddenly found herself being unable to play music for some unknown reason, she would, of course, be overwhelmed with sadness for a time, but she never found identity in it. It was a beautiful gift she was proud of having and was not shy about sharing, but the most important thing for her was to find herself amongst the pages and pages of sheet music she would memorize and play day after tiring day. She liked music because it was romantic, scary, unpredictable, not because it was an occupation. She liked pizza and she liked to travel and meet new people, real people, with their own concerns, their own lives, listening to their own stories. She knew what she liked and what she didn't.

And she didn't like the superficial, stuck-up, snobby, rich folk she found herself surrounded by all the time.

She sighed heavily. She had found herself sighing more now recently.

She was doing it again, playing that one damn, heartstring.

There came a knock on her door.

"Miss, are you about finished? Your parents are calling for you."

Her bodyguards, of course…

"Yes, yes, I'll just be a moment," she huffed as she began to strip her performance attire. "Keep your shirts on."

* * *

"Oh, my dear, you were wonderful."

"Yes indeed, quite the immaculate performance. Why, I dare say, it was the best one yet."

"Marvelous, simply marvelous."

Her parents knew how to flatter someone, but even living under the same roof as them every day, she still was not used to being praised and adored so much. It didn't mesh very well with her character, but of course, she smiled and agreed with whatever they said. They had abandoned the theatre to sitting out amongst the fandom in the dinning hall to enjoy each other's company and some fine food.

"Oh, stop you two," she waved them off scanning the menu. She wasn't even hungry to begin with. She had eaten before the performance. "You're embarrassing me. It wasn't that big a deal. I just played like I usually do."

"Nonsense," her father, Edgar Alexander chimed in, glowing smile curling up his rather impressive moustache. "You're such a modest child, but sometimes, we _must_ say how we feel. I honestly feel that we don't tell you enough how proud we are of you."

"Quite right," her mother, Gloria added, overlapping her husband's hand with hers. "I know you're growing up to be a strong independent young lady, but we assure you, we'll always be proud of you no matter what."

Sophia couldn't help but smile. She could admire their passion. Where she got it from, she would never know. When they wanted to get a point across, they drove it all the way home.

"Ok, ok, fine. Thank you. I love you both. But this flattery will get you nowhere, you know? It sounds to me like you're just trying to butter me up. I still want us all to go to the United States for the summer as soon as this tour is over and done with. I want to go travel there, see the sights. We hardly ever do that nowadays since you two are so busy with work."

Her father was in Parliament and her mother was a renowned fashion designer and critic. Naturally, their occupations kept them from being at home. Most of the time, they were hardly around to see her perform _(which is why the three guards were implemented from time-to-time)_. Flying in a private jet by herself to places like Japan or Italy was nothing new for her. It was quite normal. But when her parents did find time to come to one of her engagements, they showered her with affection. It was rather embarrassing to have such rambunctious and enthusiastic parents, but she wouldn't trade them for anything.

The couple gave each other a troubled look.

_Uh-oh_, Sophia knew that look. It was the _'give an elaborate excuse as to why we can't do a certain thing'_ kind of look. Her father was the first to speak up.

"Um sweetie, it's not like we don't want to. We really, really want to go, but you know our business, how we run things. It keeps us away sometimes—"

Her mother stressed as well, "—and we wanted to let you know as soon as possible, but we felt like we should wait until you finished the concert…"

Oh, God, they were finishing each other's _sentences_? This was a definite _no_.

She chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. She was looking forward to a trip with her parents for a change, but it would have to wait. Duty calls. Who was she to oppose it? When she got older, she swore to never be as busy as they were, to not have time to sit and enjoy an afternoon with her children…if she were to ever have any.

_God forbid._

As they began to drone on-and-on about how they were terribly sorry for not informing her sooner, it happened again. Her concentration was slowly being jerked away from her parent's rather extensive explanation back to the sensation she was feeling earlier. The thought that she was being watched was returning, this time, there was absolutely no mistaking it. The presence was close, very close. Her eyes began to scan the area once more over the top of her menu, but no one was giving her the vibe that they was staring at her, trying to get attention, goading her in a manner.

No wait. Wait!

There he was, off to the right, over her father's shoulder, sitting in the corner next to the window. It was a young man, had to be about her age, sunburst skin, face glimmering in the darkened candle light, curly black hair, and the slightest trace of stubble on his chin, hazel eyes unwavering.

_Jesus_, those eyes…

He was staring so intently at her, his gaze fixed on her before she even knew where he was.

But why? The longer she stared back at him, the more everything else began to fade away, the clanging of dishes in the distance, the ambience level of mutual conversation, it all began to blur. It was like he was drawing her in; wanting to tell her something only she would understand. By then, it was like they were the only ones in the room.

She shook her head slowly baffled, "I don't understa—"

"Dearest, are you listening?"

She blinked a few dozen times, waking her self out of whatever trance she was in, "H-huh, what?"

Her parents shot another worried look at one another, "Honey, are you alright?"

Before she could answer, her eyes glanced back over to the young man sitting at the table only to find that he was gone; she quickly bobbed her head awkwardly in every direction trying to pick him out amongst the crowd and eventually, she pinpointed him. She only caught the back of his head, but he was exiting the dining hall, slipping through a back door.

_Follow him. You're going to lose him!_

"Uh, um…ah, y-yes, I'm fine. It's fine. We'll, um, we'll talk about it as soon as I get back," she managed to spit out an excuse before rising from her seat, every fiber of her being betraying her.

What the hell was she doing? Why was she about to follow this guy?

Her father looked at her quizzically, "Where are you going?"

She was already two tables away before she turned around and gave a half-hearted answer, "Um, bathroom?"

And with that, she was gone, leaving Edgar and Gloria at the table completely stunned. He sat back in his chair and sighed, "Well, that was odd."

His wife nodded in agreement, "Quite, I thought the bathroom was in the other direction."

* * *

This was a bad idea.

What the _hell _was she doing?

After weaving her way through the crowd of tables quickly bowing and shaking hands, the people sitting obviously impressed by her performance, wanting to thank her over and over again, she had quietly stepped through the back door she had seen the mysterious individual go into and found herself in a darkened hallway as the door closed behind her. She looked to her right and the hall disappeared into the darkness. To her left was an opened area that lead out onto a veranda.

There he was.

She could see the shape of his silhouette from her vantage point. He had his back to her, obviously admiring the extravagant view. The stars were finally out after a few cloudy days and some rain. But the view was the last thing on her mind as she sneaked closer. Her body was betraying her racing mind with every step she took. What she was doing with dangerous, possibly life threatening, but she was in fact doing it, and she couldn't believe she was. She didn't even know this guy, who he was, where he came from, not his name, not anything. Her mind kept telling her to back away, but something about him, drew her in like a distressed trout on the hook of a skilled fisherman's reel.

Before she could even reconsider the gravity of her actions, the fact that she had followed a complete stranger out onto a balcony that only the streetlights below and the moon above were lighting, he turned around to face her. How did he even know she was there? She could have sworn she had made no noise.

Their eyes met and he smiled contently, obviously happy that she complied with his silent request to meet with him. His charming grin made her blush, much to her relief that the dark covered her rosy cheeks as she took an apprehensive step forward. She didn't notice from the table, but now that she was close enough to see him, she found him quite dashing, he cleaned up quite nicely dressed in a simple tuxedo with the tie loosely hanging from his open collar and his shiny black shoes glistened in the moonlight. It was like he had come straight out of a spy movie.

"I-I apologize for the intrusion," she didn't know what to say, playing with one of her bangs nervously, twirling it around her finger. Now that she was here, what now? She figured that there was enough room between them that if things went sour, she would turn tail and run for her life, but the more she looked at him, the safer she felt. Standing there, she felt like there was literally nothing threatening about him.

_You're just staring back, say something._

"I'm Sophia by the way. I…don't know if you knew."

He simply smiled and tilted his head as if he was studying her, still not breaking eye contact.

"I uh, noticed you…noticing myself, I _mean_, me. I, uh…sorry, this is unlike me to follow after, um…strange boys."

What the _hell_ was she talking about?

"_No_, I mean…I just thought that you might want to talk. _Did _you want to talk? I could be mistaken..."

He nodded.

"…because if not, then I can just…oh, you wanted to talk? Oh, that's good. What, um, what did you want to talk about? Was it something important?"

He nodded again.

"Oh, good, right then, fire away."

Her words slowly faded into the silence that soon followed. It grew even longer as he simply stared back at her, not uttering a word. He put his hands behind his back and rocked backwards and forth on his heels finally breaking eye contact with her and began to admire the scenery once more.

Well, this was awkward.

What was he doing? Now that she thought about, he hadn't said a single word since she saw him, not introduced himself, no name, not coughed or sneezed, nothing. She was all for the silent, dreamy type of guys, but this was ridiculous. Why wasn't he speaking? He was the one who said he wanted to talk in the first place. Or at least, that's what she thought. He wanted to talk, right?

He then reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a single piece of paper and a pen and began to furiously write on it. Sophia looked on both curious and wary of what this sudden progression meant. Dotting the last of his writing, he extended his hand and gestured to her that he wanting her to take it, shaking it in the air. In turn, she stepped closer slowly and removed the sliver from his hand hovering it above her eyes so she could see him out of her peripheral as she read the message.

He had nice handwriting, a combination of cursive and stationary.

It read:

_My name is Hush._

_I am sorry._

_I cannot speak._

_I am a mute._

_But I did want to meet you._

_For that, I thank you._

_You sounded amazing tonight._

_I am a big fan._

_What?_

_Mute?_

She looked up at him. He wore a soft smile, still shifting on his heels.

He was being serious.

This was a first for her. She had never actually met a mute in her life, so her initial reaction was hesitation, unsure of what to say, then guilt for thinking even the slightest bit poorly of him.

And his name, obviously a play on words due to his disability, but it actually suited his suave disposition.

"Oh my, I'm…I'm so sorry Hush, correct? Forgive me. I had no idea."

He shook his head in earnest letting her know it was fine. A few more moments of silence passed again as she summed up her thoughts of the new revelation that her dashing young admirer was unable to talk back to her.

How was she supposed to talk to him? Did he know sign language? Wait a moment; did he _need_ to know sign language? He said he was a mute, not deaf. Well, knowing sign language would be useful. Wait; but she didn't know sign language. How would he knowing sign language be useful here?

_You're staring back Sophie!_

"…Sorry, I'm out of sorts today for some reason. However, I apologize for the misunderstanding. But thank you." She smiled kindly, "I'm glad you liked the song. It was sweet of you to mention."

"_**You are welcome."**_

She froze.

That was an audible voice, but in her head, husky, thick, low-toned Hispanic accent. Her eyes met his once again. He had stopped rocking on his heels now, his appearance a bit more serious.

What was going on? Was she hearing things? She took a hesitant look behind her, but no one was there. Where did that voice come from?

"_**Can…you hear me?"**_

She jerked back around to meet his eyes again, "Is…is that you?!"

He nodded vigorously, _**"Yes, it is. How are you?"**_

"How am I? How in heaven's name are you doing that?! How come I can I hear you in my head?!"

He put a hand to his mouth as if stifling a laugh. Was he laughing at her? How could he be laughing? It was a legitimate question worthy of being taken seriously. Any normal person would freak out of hearing a deep, resonate, slightly attractive, voice come out of nowhere.

She stomped her foot in frustration, "Answer me, I said!"

He straightened up, inner-voice still audible to her just like she would be hearing anyone else, _**"No, not your head, technically, it is more so that you are hearing me with your soul."**_

She blinked in confusion, "My soul, what do you mean? You're not a telepath or anything?" this was amazing. Physically, he was unable to speak, but through some sort of magic or something unexplainable, he was able to communicate with her.

He shook his head, _**"No, I am not a telepath. Like I said, you are not hearing me with your mind, but your soul. I can only do this with certain people, people with special gifts."**_

She raised an eyebrow, "What…do you mean special gifts? I'm afraid I don't follow."

His entire demeanor changed in an instant, _**"You may be able to fool others, but you cannot fool me. You know exactly what I am talking about. You are a gifted young woman in more ways than music."**_

She caught on immediately.

No, not this.

She took a cautious step backwards. The gravity of his words came crashing down on her.

This was bad.

This was _very_ bad.

She couldn't stop the tremble in her voice, "Who…who _are_ you. What do you want?"

The young man took a step forward, noticing her apprehension, _**"I came all the way from Madrid to speak with you, Sophia Alexander. I knew it the moment I saw your performance on the television. Your soul was practically calling out to me, and I had to answer it." **_He took another step towards her, hands extended, _**"I am a meister and I am in need of a partner." **_He pointed directly at her.

"_**I would like for you to become my weapon."**_


	2. Time to Face the Music

_**nope, still don't own Soul Eater...**_

* * *

—_2—_

_Time to Face the Music_

No.

This was terrible.

How could this happen?

How in the hell did he know about her? She never told a soul, no, not anyone, not her friends, not her family, certainly not her family. There was no way he would know about her…her power, right?

Why? She was doing so well before this.

She relented, the uneasiness she was missing of following him by herself now rearing its ugly head, "What do you mean, _weapon_? I-I don't know w-what you're talking about."

She could see the apparent displeasure show up in his demeanor, a look of disappointment on his face seeing through her deceit, _**"I told you before, you cannot lie to me. I can feel your soul wavelength, now even stronger than ever just by being here with you. I just had to come and meet you in person after seeing you on television. Even then, I could feel your soul calling out. And now that I am here, there is no mistaking it. You are indeed a weapon, a person who can fight against the Kishin souls," **_He extended his hand out to her, _**"Please, will you not consider becoming my partner? We can do so much good together. I just know it."**_

She shook her head, the thought of running becoming ever more present, "N-no! Stop! I said I'm not a weapon! Leave me alone!"

She made the mistake of looking into his eyes again. They were sympathetic and calming, putting a face to the previous sensation she felt onstage. As much as she wanted to walk away, something told her to stay, again her body betraying her mind. Why was he here? _Why now?_

"I said I'm not interested. Now please, just go away."

"_**Will you at least tell me why?" **_he continued to pry. Why was he being so persistent?

"It's none of your business," she snapped, looking away from him and back towards where she came. "I don't have to explain anything to you; now, I am sorry you had to travel all the way here to be declined, but like I said, I have no interest in being your partner, or weapon…or whatever it is you're talking about." She bowed, still retaining her manners, "Now, good day to you, sir."

She turned to leave, finally finding the strength to retreat when she heard his voice again.

"_**How long have you been hiding it?"**_

She stopped, balling her hands into fists.

_Damn it._

How was he so perceptive?

It was like he was reading her mind, or more so her soul according to him. Was she that much of an open book to him? She turned back to face him. His ability was becoming more and more believable…and annoying.

"You wouldn't understand," she said apprehensively. "I had to."

"_**I am a good listener," **_he was trying to be humorous, but he knew she was quite serious, a small attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere from their heated discussion. She felt a bit more at ease when he "zipped" his lips shut and put his imaginary "key" into his pocket.

"_**I will not tell a soul. I promise. You have my undivided attention."**_

It would be a whole lot easier on her heart to just walk away and pretend she had never met him, like nothing had ever happened if he wasn't so charming.

"…I suppose I could…give you a reason," she admitted. "You did come this far:

"My parents always feared things like Kishin souls, the meisters and weapons simply because they were unable to understand them. They always told me to stay away from them, that we should keep our distance, so when I found out that I had the weapon gene in me; I was obviously scared of being rejected by my parents. And how could I do that to them? I'm their only daughter, their…crowned jewel. They're so proud of me and I'm fine living my life with one little secret. They're happy and so am I."

She tapped her foot, "Now, do you understand why I can't? This isn't about me. I don't want to disappoint my parents or anyone else."

He frowned, something she wasn't expecting, _**"You are wrong Sophia. This IS about you. I can see it in your parent's eyes. There is no way they would be afraid of you, their own daughter. Maybe you can help them understand that being a weapon is nothing to be ashamed of and there is nothing to fear."**_

She shook her head, "No, I can't take that chance. My father, he's a politician. My mother has an enormous career. I can't do that to them. They have too much to concern about already."

He in turn shook his head disagreeing with her, _**"And what, you are to continue holding onto this secret like you are now for the rest of your life? It is a part of who you are. You cannot hide that. They will find out eventually. It is best if you tell them yourself then to-"**_

"No," she said again, voice elevated. He stopped mid-sentence seeing the frustration on her face.

She had had enough.

"I said I won't take that chance and I meant It," she finally met his gaze. "I've wanted to tell them. Really, I have, but…I simply can't. Every waking moment, I feel like I'm living a lie. But it's only a selfish wish of mine. If keeping my ability a secret in order to keep a smile on their face, to keep them proud of me, is what I have to do, then I will do that without hesitation."

She paused realizing how half-hearted the words coming out her own mouth were. Did she even mean any of it? The only time she would shed her human form and gaze on her other half that of a weapon, was in the confines of her room away from prying eyes. It was liberating to do so. But then again, it never lasted for long because she had to grace the stage again and play out her lie once more for the entire world to see.

Maybe that's where her mind was wondering off to when she was in the spot light. She could never really concentrate up there on the big stage because she was always thinking about a life outside of the fame and fortune, a life like this young man, Hush was talking about, a life partnering up with a trusted member of the DWMA, the school in Nevada, USA, and warding off evil souls, helping to save lives and fighting the good fight. It sounded exciting and much more rewarding then the façade she was forced to live in.

She also heard about becoming a Death Scythe as well. Oh, how amazing that must be. It was like reaching her full potential, that one note she was striving to hit, but never really had the range to reach, not yet.

No, no, it was a fantasy. She couldn't do it. She had consequences to think about. What would her parents say if she decided to run away to Death City, enrolling into the school, and become who she really wanted to be? Or worse, what would they not say? Would they shun her, reject her true self? They had expressed their distaste for weapons and meisters before. Death and pain followed wherever they went. It wasn't a secret that they had little to no trust in them. A lot of the higher-class people felt that way. With the money they had accumulated over the course of their lives, what threat did these Kishin souls have on them? An actual Kishin was said to be that of a myth, something that didn't even exist, let alone needed an entire army of soul devouring weapons to keep the threat of another one coming into the world at bay.

_It leaves a bad taste in my mouth talking about it_, her father would say after she had brought up the topic into conversation one night at the dinner table. _Just let it be, little Sophie. You needn't concern yourself with something like that. _Her mother felt the same saying it was dangerous and scary.

That was the word.

Scared.

She didn't want her parents to be scared of her. They had trouble sitting through the entire movie of _The Ring _(which, strangely enough, she had no problem with)_._ There was no way they would be fine with knowing that she would be walking a path covered in blood.

"I'm sorry," she reinstated, "I simply can't," she bowed again. "I really am sorry." And with that, she turned to leave him standing there again, regretting her own words when she heard him come up behind her firmly take hold of her hand.

"_**Please," **_she heard him say, _**"just this once I want you to think about the big picture here. I know you want to make your parents proud. You are making them proud now, but with your powers, you could be saving lives. What would your parents think if they found out you had the potential to stop so many lives from being lost? It is your duty. You should feel some type of responsibility to do something, yes?"**_

She wasn't able to think clearly. The moment he took hold of her hand, she had felt like a chain had suddenly linked between them. His voice was an echo when he stood at a distance, but now it was more pronounced, like he was speaking directly into her ear.

So this was his soul.

It was strong-willed, experienced, but eager to learn, understanding, compassionate, a bit mysterious, and aloof, self-conscious? She could feel him. This was him, a bare naked soul. It was a totally new experience, but it felt so nostalgic, like she knew what it was like all this time, and she could feel his attempt of reaching out to her and trying to find familiar ground within her own soul, cautious and caring.

It felt…nice.

"Hush," she said with her back still to him. "Let go."

He released her immediately, regretting his persistence _**"Forgive me…it was not my intent to anger you further."**_

"It's alright," she was glad he couldn't see her flustered face. His hand was warm.

"This is my life," she said plainly. "I'm sorry you don't like it, but I know you can find another partner. You're a capable guy, I'm sure. Finding a partner Someone like me isn't suited for fighting, or being reliable."

Her parents must be getting worried.

"Goodbye," she finally walked away. His voice faded off along with the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"_**Yes…Goodbye, Sophia."**_

* * *

"Dear, that was the longest bathroom trip I've ever seen. I was going to call your bodyguards to go after you if you took any longer. I haven't actually seen those three since you got off stage. Anyway, are you sure you're alright? You were a bit out of sorts when you left."

"Exactly, maybe we should head home. It's been a long night."

She tried calming them down with a half-hearted smile, "I'm fine, really I am. I just got stopped a few times. You know how people are; they just wanted a few autographs. It took longer than I had first anticipated."

Her mother pouted, "The nerve of some people, they won't let you have a moment's rest, for pity's sake."

Her father; however, nudged her gingerly on the shoulder, "But that's the life of a celebrity, eh? They simply can't enough of you, am I right?"

She chuckled dryly, her mind too preoccupied to her previous encounter out on the veranda.

Why did he put it like that?

She felt guilty.

All she ever wanted to do was keep her little world safe from her secret, to keep her family happy, to continue having moments like she was having with them now; but apparently the world didn't want it that way. It was unfair.

But she was contradicting herself. She loved to play music, she loved sharing it with other people, but she also loved being a weapon too. Hush was right; it was a part of who she was. It should be something she could share without shame, no matter who disliked it. She was given these powers for a purpose, to help and protect people.

It was her responsibility, her duty.

Maybe her little world was in more danger of being destroyed if she continued to hide it from everyone. No matter how she tried to wish it away, the danger of being attacked was always upon the innocent and helpless. But the DWMA was already doing that. Was she even capable of doing anything? She had never been a fight in her life. What was the point of being a weapon if she couldn't fight? But wouldn't that be the reason for going to the DWMA in the first place?

God, this was confusing.

She sighed loudly concerning her parents even more.

"Sweetie, we can go if you want."

She couldn't hide her evident frustration, "No, it's fine. I'm just a bit peckish." She grabbed the menu again, "So, did you order already?"

"No, we decided to wait for you."

"Alright then, so I'll have the…"

As she scanned the menu, her eyes wandered back to the table where Hush was sitting. His silhouette had been replaced by a nameless couple. The silent Latino was nowhere to be found. She was actually a bit disappointed that he hadn't come after her.

"…What are you going to have?"

She came back to her senses and flattened the menu on the table. The waitress who apparently walked up when she had spaced out, her mother, and father were all giving her worried looks.

Thoroughly embarrassed, she awkwardly smiled, "I'm uh…I'm not very hungry."

* * *

Out of nowhere, a blood-curdling scream cut through the air like a knife breaking the seemingly peaceful atmosphere. Sophia spun around in her seat towards the cry and the people in her way seemed to part down the middle, making way for her to see what the commotion was all about.

Her eyes widened in horror.

In the center of the auditorium, laid a body, a man had been shot in the head, and standing above him stood another with a smoking pistol in his hand, a crazed, disturbing smile on his face.

"Nobody panic…" his words oozed from his lips. His tongue forked like a snake as he eyed his next potential victims. As he spoke the small blue soul floated from the body in front of the murderer's face. Like a dog for a bone, he snapped out at it, catching it in his mouth and swallowing it one bite, slurping it down like a noodle.

"…My name is Hyde, _Mr_. Hyde to be exact. I'm just here for all of your souls! That's all!"

The wave of terror was almost instantaneous. Screams of fear erupted from the crowd as they ran towards the nearest exit. The man only cackled, watching the masses stumble, kick, and push towards their salvation. But as the first people reached the exit doors, they immediately noticed that the way had been sealed shut. Somehow, he had blocked the entrances and had trapped them all inside like ants in a jar. He was planning on picking them off one-by-one.

The gun went off again.

His wicked precision caught another defenseless bystander in the back, this time, a woman. She fell to the floor buckling under the critical blow a few feet from where he was. He leapt into the air, most unnatural for a normal human being and his mouth clamped down on the soul as he landed above her.

"Sophia!" her father called out to her. The Alexander's were one of the first to flee from their seats being that were dangerously close to the scene of the crime, but they stopped short after they noticed their crowned jewel hadn't followed.

"What on earth are you doing? Run!"

Sophia's feet refused to move. Her gaze remained on the killer with the gun. For a fleeting moment, she was scared, unable to turn away, but something snapped deep inside her, a feeling she had never felt before towards anyone.

Rage.

Something could not become a reality until one experiences it first-hand. She knew full well that Kishin souls were dangerous. It would be on the news, it would be on the radio, but now that she was seeing it for herself, there was no way she could sit idly by and do nothing. She was pissed, pissed at herself for not reacting sooner to save his first two victims, for not realizing how much she could be contributing to stop this type of madness all over the world, pissed at him for showing up and ruining the beautiful night.

"Sophia, please!" she could hear the fear in her father's voice. "Just run!"

She took a step closer towards Hyde.

It came down to the moment Hush mentioned earlier. Was her secret really worth keeping in exchange for the life of another? If she turned tail and ran now, she would never forgive herself, not with the knowledge of knowing she had the power to fight back when no one could.

But she was scared. Her parents, dear God, what would they think if she changed here and now after putting up a charade all these years?

She felt a presence, warm and calming come up behind her and take hold of her hand.

"_**Fight with me."**_

It was Hush, voice just as audible as before.

She couldn't fight her own hesitation and gripped his hand even tighter, "I want you to answer me this." She turned to face him not letting go of his hand. His gaze was just as calming as it was on the veranda.

"If my family rejects me, what then, what am I supposed to do?"

He took hold of her other hand inadvertently making her heart flutter.

"_**That is solely up to you, but just be confident in knowing that I will never reject you."**_

…was that a confession just now? She could feel her cheeks burn from the confusion she felt trying to decipher his answer.

The cocking of the gun was loud and terrifying.

Her mother this time, "Sophie, honey, please come this way where it's safe!"

"_**Let us go."**_

She nodded, "let's…"

* * *

They stepped forward into the vacant circle of the room the evil soul had obviously created. The occupants had scattered to circumference of the auditorium, cowering and hiding underneath tables and chairs to avoid becoming the next target. They all, along with Hyde saw the pair step into the killer's firing range without fear. He swirled around on his heels, his sickening laugh filling the room. Hush and Sophia stood adamant.

"What's this!?" Hyde screeched hysterically. "Have you come to beg for your lives!? How amusing! Hahaha!"

"No," she practically growled, her anger reaching its peak. "But you're going wish _you_ had!"

She leapt into the air and in a swirl of light, she took her other form, stunning ever eye that looked on in astonishment. The meister caught the weapon in his hand, studying the light-weight blade. She had transformed into a beautiful red double edged rapier, the blade, the hand-guard that swirled around the hilt in a bouquet-ish assortment of metallic rose petals, even the handle was red. He turned the sword into the light and eyed the illustration of a branch of thorns that was etched on both sides all the way to the tip which dipped into a concave on one side, forming a hook just before the end of the blade.

He could see her face on the inside of the rapier. Her eyes were filled with worry.

"I don't look weird, do I?"

He smiled shaking his head, _**"Not at all, in fact, you're perfect. Will you find it odd that I in fact taught fencing back in Madrid?" **_He took a couple of test swings measuring the weight and speed. He was pleased to say the least. _**"You see, this is fate. We were destined to fight together."**_

"Shit!" Hyde cursed kicking over a table. "You brats must be from that academy! To hell with the both of you!"

Hush pointed the blade directly at him, but reached out for Sophia's attention, _**"I thought of something really cool to say just now, but I figured I should let you do the talking."**_

If he could see her, she was shaking her head, trying desperately to ignore the joke, "I'll keep it short." Her voice could be heard throughout the room. "Killer, Mr. Hyde, you have shed blood on this otherwise beautiful night. For that, we cannot let you go unchecked. And if we are to go to hell, we humbly say 'you first'. We are here for your soul!"

Two shots rang out in an instant, the bullets flying directly at the meister's head, but Hush swatted them out the air like flies, splitting the pieces of metal in two in the process. Sophia was astonished.

_He's fast._

The mute lunged forward striking down another three bullets and swung at the killer's throat, missing by centimeters. He stopped on the ball of his foot and swung again, this time, connecting, cutting a slice into Hyde's forehead. The evil soul fell back onto the floor, writhing in pain, but quickly regaining his footing evading another killing move from the meister.

He squeezed the trigger and realized the chamber was empty. He reached for his pocket to retrieve more bullets, but the gun was struck out of his hand, blade dangerously close to his face.

"It's _over_ Hyde!" Sophia declared, confidence filling her voice. The reality of winning began to set in. She could do this. They could do this. For the first time in the world, she felt like she was doing what she was designed to do, fighting, this is what she supposed to—

"_**Focus Sophia! I cannot do this without you!"**_

The killer had sprung to his feet, whipped out a concealed knife and grabbed an unsuspecting woman from the crowd by her hair, pointing the dirty blade dangerous close to her throat. She screamed in terror as it began to dig into her skin.

"Come any closer and she gets a neck-full of knife! I swear, I'll do it!"

Hush halted his advancement and lowered the blade, eyes narrow and burning with rage.

"No!" Sophia cried.

_Shit_, she hesitated for only a moment and he had already taken another innocent person into his clutches. But she didn't want to see another person die tonight, no, she had to do something.

"_**Listen to yourself," **_Hush's voice came crashing into her subconscious. _**"We…we can beat him, but we have to do it together. You do not have time to beat yourself up about hesitating. The woman in front of us still needs our help."**_

"You're right," she admitted shaking the guilt off instantaneously. "What do you suggest?"

"_**We are faster than him, much faster than him. We can beat his knife."**_

"We can?" That sounded pretty risky. "Are you sure?"

"_**I know we can. You just need to trust me, but most importantly, you need to trust yourself. Are you faster than his blade?"**_

She was silent for a moment. She analyzed her assailant and noticed his sweat-ridden face, his shaking hands, the uneasiness in his stance, things she didn't notice at first, but now that she had factored in the statistics, she saw how much the odds weighed in their favor.

"Yes, I am faster."

He smiled, _**"Then let us end this."**_

"Let's…"

In one motion, the meister lunged at the attacker, closing the distance between him and Hyde in a millisecond's time, he struck the knife from his hand and sliced his enemy in two, a feat no one was quick enough to see with the naked eye. The woman fell to the floor in an emotional heap as the party crasher dissipated into a small red orb-like soul that hovered a few feet from the ground. And along with the end of the battle, Sophia dissolved back into her human form as well, hand still encased in her partner's. In reality, she had never let go. Even though they had defeated the enemy, the overwhelming sense of guilt and shame encased her like a cocoon. The crowd of speechless onlookers had begun to slowly center themselves on the two in wary suspicion and curiosity, Sophia's parents being in the front of the group.

They had all witnessed the Alexander family jewel transform into a weapon, a real weapon, no gimmicks, no tricks, and together with a nameless stranger, they defeated a cold-blooded killer. How was she supposed to present herself to them now? Her secret, the one she had tried so hard to keep under wraps for so long was now exposed. She turned to her shocked parents, the bewilderment evident on her faces.

Dear God, what was she supposed to say? Her eyes wondered to Hush who looked on in silent anticipation. His mannerisms spoke encouragement, insisting she say something.

She sighed heavily, knowing she was on her own with this one, "Mum, Dad, I'm—"

She was cut short by being engulfed by her mother's arms. She had trapped her daughter in an unrelenting hug.

"Oh my darling, I'm so glad you're safe!" her voice trembling and exhausted from the suspension. Her hug was intensified when her father grabbed the both of them, he being just as emotional as his wife.

"My daughter, thank God you're not hurt!"

Sophia was wide-eyed and shocked, "Y-you mean, you aren't mad?"

"Mad?" he mother backed away for a fleeting moment to look the young girl in the eyes. "How could we possibly be mad? You saved us. We owe you our lives!"

Charles scratched at his balding head, still amazed from the whole ordeal, "But a weapon, since when Sophie? We had no idea."

Oh no, the question that needed to be answered.

The guilt still lingered.

The pain of her secrecy was beginning to sink in.

She averted the look of her parents and down to the floor, again noticing that she still hadn't let go of Hush's hand. And rightfully so, she wasn't ready to stand on her own on this. She needed all of the support she could get.

"I-I'm sorry for keeping it a secret from you, but I was scared, terrified really, of what you might say if you found out, but I knew I couldn't hide it any longer after tonight. People's lives were in danger." She turned her attention to the rest of the crowd, "And I'm so terribly sorry for not being able to doing something sooner. I feel awful for not stepping up to my responsibility to save everyone. But after tonight I came to the realization that…the stage I need to be on is bigger than any theatre." She looked back at Hush who nodded in agreement. She continued, "I need to be out protecting and saving lives, and I can't do that by just playing music for you all. I can be a bigger contribution to everyone if I stopped pretending that the threat of the Kishin menace is not real. We all witnessed it tonight, and I swear to you…as a weapon, I will never…hesitate again in protecting those who I care about..." She turned to her parents, "…even if that means you can't accept me for who I am."

What followed was something she didn't anticipate in the slightest. It trickled in like rain, but it slowly erupted into the loudest, most authentic applause she had ever heard in her life, more thunderous than all of her performances combined.

It was incredible and overwhelming all at the same time.

"Darling," her father stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I apologize for putting any type of doubt in your heart. We will _also _be proud of you, no matter what." He wiped the tears that began to fall from her eyes, "I'm not going to lie, there is so much we don't understand about weapons or meisters or anything associating with their job, but because of you, we are willing to learn."

Gloria interjected, "Yes we will, dearest. I know it sound superficial now, but we promise to always support you."

"No, no," she sniffled, whole-heartily relieved. It felt like a world of pain and pressure had been lifted from her shoulders. "I believe you." She smiled, her tear-stain cheeks shimmering, "Thank you so much." They embraced as the applause finally died down and a resounding _"ahh"_ emitted from the crowd.

She could still hear him through the noise,_** "Told ya…"**_

She chocked out a laugh, "Shut up."

* * *

Outside, officers and local news reporters stormed the area unbeknownst to the hostages inside the auditorium; the doors and windows were forced back open by the outside assistance of the London police, and after every single person was brought in for a street-corner questioning and news briefing, the Alexander's found a secluded place to talk a few distant blocks down the road, away from the ambulances, police cars, and flashing lights. Their attention turned to the silent young man standing next to her. Her father was the first to address him, noticing how he was still standing rather closely to his namesake, "And uh, who might your new friend be, Sophie? He's not a very talkative fellow, is he?"

She immediately noticed what her father was alluding to and realized that she hadn't found the time to introduce her mute companion; she nervously cleared her throat, "Oh, um, ah, Father, Mother, this is Hush. He's…uh, he's mute. He can't speak." She paused after lulling over how she was going to explain to them that she could hear him through their soul wavelength, but before she could think of a plausible answer, the meister had pulled out a small notebook and pen from his suit pocket and began furiously writing his choice of words down on a page. He dotted the last sentence and handed the notebook to her parents and they awkwardly gathered around it to see what it said:

_It is an honor to meet the Alexander family in person._

_I am a big fan of the music your daughter plays._

_I was the one that confronted Sophia about her powers and asked her in helping me defeat the killer._

_I could not have done it without her cooperation._

_Thank you for your understanding._

"Oh, I see," Charles murmured, still studying the young man with a raised eyebrow. "Are you her…shall I say…well acquainted with one another?"

"DAD!" Sophia stomped her foot in frustration. Why would he ask such an embarrassing question? But the meister took the notebook and began to write again, this time, gaining Sophia's attention. What did he possibly have to say after that? He handed it back again and handed it back to them for them to read it:

_I actually wanted to enroll in the DWMA in Shibusen with her._

_It is in the US of A, more so in Nevada._

_I traveled from Madrid to ask her if she wanted to become my partner._

_But it would be an honor if we received your permission as well._

_It would be a humbling and enriching experience for the both of us._

"Is this something you want, Sophie?" her mother chimed in after reading the note, looking over at her daughter.

Now that she thought about it, what he was asking was a life she had never known, of course she thought about it on a regular basis, but it was becoming more of a reality. Did she really want it, to go and live in Shibusen and learn what it means to be a weapon, exploring her potential and fighting alongside him in protecting the weak and innocent, doing things like what they just did tonight on a regular basis? It sounded like a dream, but there was uncertainty in her heart. Where she would go, danger and death really did follow, and she had only known a life of luxury and was waited on every waking moment. If she said "yes", she would really only have herself to rely on, well with Hush's help of course.

But it was a chance to really figure out who she was off the stage and out in the real world. She could be whoever she wanted to be, go places she had never been, meet people just like her, who came from all walks of life. There was no way she could pass something like that up. Even with the consequences, today, she proved to herself that she was at least reliable. And she could rest in knowing that much.

She nodded vigorously, "Yes this is what I want. I want to join the DWMA and know what it means to be a weapon." She stepped back standing alongside Hush and smiled, "There, I can make you even more proud."

Her parents' faces brightened with cheesy, but genuine smiles. They couldn't have imagined being any more proud of their little Sophia. They knew at that moment, she had become that independent woman she was destined to become.

Her father however retained his more serious demeanor and stepped forward in front of the young meister. He silently toyed with his moustache as he examined him. The boy's eyes were unwavering, staring back. Sophia frowned noticing the awkward staring completion going on between them.

"Dad, don't interrogate him."

"Edgar dear, let the boy be, won't you?" Gloria added tugging on her husband's sleeve encouraging him to back away.

"Quiet, you two…_this_ is a talk amongst men," He barked, chest sticking out. "Hush, I am told is your name. Alright then, Hush, I am going to ask you one question and I want a straight answer."

A long pause emitted, but neither backed down. The two ladies just watched on in blatant confusion. What the hell was going on?

Edgar suddenly spoke, voice booming, "Hush, will you be able to protect my daughter?"

The Spaniard's pen flew across the note paper and he tore it from the binding and handed it to his interrogator. The politician took the paper and scanned the words closely, then folded it and slid it into his pocket. A smiled slowly grew underneath his furrowed upper lip.

"That's what I like to hear."

Sophia glanced at her partner who glanced at her as well with a sly grin. Of course she wanted to know what he wrote, but he again "zipped" his mouth shut and tossed the "key" away in a pplayful manner.

"_**It is like your father says; it is a talk amongst men."**_

"Don't give me that man talk nonsense," she huffed folding her arms across her chest. She wanted to know, but she wasn't the one to pry_ too_ much. Whatever it was, it made her dad happy, and that in turn, made her happy…well happier.

She truly was ecstatic. After so long, she was able to be proud of whom she was in front of her mother and father. Never in a million years would she have thought it to become a reality, but here she was. She turned to Hush and thanked him, bowing to him. he in turn slightly bowed as well.

"I owe you," he smiled at her.

"_**We are even if we shake on it," **_he extended his hand out towards her which she kindly accepted with a firm grasp.

"I guess we're even then…partner."

He nodded.

So he was to be her partner, Hush, the mysterious man from Madrid. Granted, she knew little to nothing about him, but the look in his eyes, the skills he possessed, and the smile on his face gave her the confidence she needed to trust him.

"Ok, ok, you can let go of her hand," her father karate-chopped their shake apart. "On second thought, I don't want you to go with him to the DWMA! No, nope!"

Her face grew red, both anger and embarrassment boiling inside of her. She stomped her foot again and again, "DAD! SHUT UP!

* * *

"Now, what are we supposed to do with this?" Sophia had the Kishin egg in hand and eyed it warily, unsure of what to do with the dead killer's soul. Hush stood, hands on hips shaking his head.

"_**You mean to tell me that you have wanted to become a proper Death Sycthe this entire time, and you do not know what to do with a Kishin soul?"**_

She frowned, shooting him a dismissive glare, "It's not like I'm a student just yet. I thought that's what we are supposed to do, to go learn about what meisters and weapons are supposed to do!"

He put his hands up, trying to ward more of her anger, _**"Sorry, sorry, I just thought**_ _**you knew already." **_ He smiled slyly again at her, _**"Would you be surprised if I told you that you were supposed to eat it?"**_

Her eyes widened in repudiation, "What, eat it? We just killed this guy! Why in the hell would I eat his soul?"

She could have sworn she heard him laugh out loud, frustrating her even more, "What's so funny?"

"_**Nothing at all, I just thought you would be more prepared to become a Death Scythe than this. You acted so cool in front of that Hyde guy. Oh, by the way, that little speech you gave him was way cooler than anything I was going to say."**_

She stomped her foot, high heels crunching in the uneven pavement, "I beg your pardon, but I know a lot more about becoming a Death Scythe then you think."

"_**Oh really?"**_

"Yes, really!"

She held his alluring stare for a few moments, but ultimately failed, turning away.

He smiled, continuing to tease her, _**"Well, here is another thing to remember if you want to become a Death Scythe. In order to become one, you need to eat ninety-nine of those Kishin souls along with the soul of a witch."**_

The thought made her want to gag, "That sounds gross in actuality."

He shrugged, _**"Try it, you might like the way it tastes."**_

"You're not funny."

"_**I am serious. Go ahead."**_

She soughed staring at the twitchy glowing red orb in her hand and postulated on whether or not sticking it in her mouth was a good idea. The illumination coming from the sphere was warm and entrancing making her almost forget it was the soul of a deranged psychopath.

"Screw it," she had experience a series of strange events tonight. This was just one of many firsts for her. She gave up thinking about the rationality of it and stuck out her tongue and placed the Kishin egg on top. To her surprise, as it slipped into her mouth, the size and shape formulated to where swallowing the disproportional delicacy was a whole lot easier to chew. She bit down on it, splitting it into pieces and noticed no taste. But the texture…

_Oh my… _

The texture was superb. The warmth she was feeling earlier surged through her like a wave of sunlight. Goosebumps formed on her skin making her shiver slightly. She swallowed, a hand gracing her cheek in delight as it traveled down her windpipe into her stomach.

She exhaled, condensation formulating from her mouth in contrast to the cool London air, "Mmmm, now _that_ was pleasant."

Hush stared on in slight fascination, not entirely sure what he just witnessed, _**"Did…it taste good?"**_

She opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them in the first place, "It's not so much the taste…but the sensation as it went down was amazing. I liked it."

He raised an eyebrow, _**"You have no~o idea how sexual that just sounded."**_

She snapped back to reality and almost slapped him in the face for his shrewdness. Luckily enough, he avoided her assault just in time. It lead to a slight chase down the street, her face bright red after realizing how ridiculous she must have looked.

"You pervert! That was _NOT_ sexual! Shut UP!"


End file.
